tingled in the nostrils.
Ahead of us the red building stood stark against the cloudless sky, its towers and spires seeming to reach up to pierce that very sky. It was good to get out of the city, to be where we could see the sky again, and it gave me the feeling that we were finally on our way, wherever we were going.
I wondered once again just how crazy one could get. If we followed this snaking trail we just might find the centaur people who had bought Roscoe’s brain and if they still happened to have it they might sell it back to us, and if we could get it somehow we could pop it back into Roscoe’s body and just possibly he might be able to tell us what the whole thing was about.
In my time I’d been on wild-goose chases of my own, but to whomp up a honey, I told myself, it took a female big game hunter and a dreaming blind man and a sneaky little religico with dirty fingernails. There might be better combinations, but until a better one came along, those three would stand as tops.
We were about halfway to the building when behind me startled, frightened screams burst out and as I turned I saw the hobbies charging down upon us. Hardly thinking of what I was doing, I dived sidewise off the trail and as I dived caught Sara around the waist and carried her along with me. Together we rolled out to one side of the path and the hobbies went rushing past us, their rockers moving so fast they seemed to be a blur. Both Smith and Tuck where hanging on to the saddles desperately and Tuck’s brown robe was flowing out behind him, snapping in the wind. The hobbies were pounding as hard as they could go straight for the ramp that led into the building, screaming as they went-screams that sent cold shivers running up my spine.
I was halfway to my feet when something exploded just above my head, not a loud explosion, but rather a muffled thump, and dark red pellets went whizzing through the air and bouncing on the ground.
I didn’t know what was going on, but it was quite apparent that this was not a place to stay. The hobbies might know what was happening and they had headed for the ramp and I was more than willing to do my best to follow. I jerked Sara to her feet and we started running for the ramp.
Off to the right was another thump and more of the dark-red pellets went skittering across the ground, raising little puffs of dust as they bounced along.
“It’s the tree!” cried Sara, gasping for breath. “The tree is throwing things at us!”
I jerked up my head and saw that a number of dark balls were flying through the air above us and they certainly did seem to be coming from the tree.
“Look out!” I yelled at Sara and gave her a push that sent her staggering to the ground, falling there myself. Above us the dark balls were going thump! thump! thump! and the air seemed to be filled with the pellets, whizzing wickedly. One caught me in the ribs and it felt as if a mule had kicked me and another clipped me on the cheek.
“Now!” I yelled at Sara and jerked her to her feet She broke free of my clutching hand and beat me to the ramp. All around us the dull thumps were exploding and the floor of the ramp danced with the bouncing pellets, but ‘we made it up the ramp without being hit and stumbled through the door.
The others all were there, the hobbies huddled in a frightened group and Hoot scurrying up and down in front of them, like a worried sheepdog. Tuck was slumped in his saddle and Smith had quit his crooning, but instead of slumping, he was sitting straight or as straight as his tubbiness would let him, and his face was glowing with a silly sort of happiness that was downright frightening.
Outside the door the dark balls still were plunging in and exploding with their muffled crumps, throwing out sprays of the whizzing pellets that struck and bounced in dancing frenzy all along the ramp.
I took a look at Sara and she was - somewhat mussed. Her natty explorer outfit was wrinkled and dusty and she had a dark smudge across one cheek.
I grinned at her. Through it all, I saw, she’d hung onto her rifle. I wondered if she had it glued to her.
Something small and running very fast went past me and then another one and as the tiny runners burst out onto the ramp I saw they were ratlike creatures. Each of them grabbed one of the bouncing pellets in their mouth, grabbing them even as they bounced, and then they were coming back, with their rodent teeth locked about the pellets.
From the darkness behind us came a rustling sound, interspersed with squeaks, and a second later hundreds of those ratlike creatures were pouring past us, running between our feet, bumping against our legs in their maddened haste, all heading for the ramp and the bouncing pellets.
With the coming of the ratlike horde, the hobbies had scurried to one side, beyond the doorway, to get out of the way. We followed the hobbies. The little scurrying animals paid us no attention. Their only interest were the pellets and they dashed back and forth, fetching and carrying as if their lives depended on it, running into one another, leaping over one another, each one for itself.
Outside the dark balls kept coming in, bursting with dull thumps, continuing to scatter pellets.
Hoot came over beside me, pulled up his feet and collapsed upon his belly. He let his tentacles down upon the floor.
“They harvest food,” he said, “against the coming of the great hunger.”
I nodded. It made sense, of course. The dark balls were pods filled with seeds and this broadcasting of them was the method by which the trees could give them distribution. But they likewise were something more than pods of seed. They could be used as weapons and they had been used on us. As if the tree had been aware of us and once we’d come in range, had opened fire. If the range had been a little shorter and if we’d been trapped out in the open, they could have done us damage. My ribs still ached from the hit I’d taken and there was a little scratch along one cheek that was very tender. We had been extremely lucky that the building had been close.
Sara sat down upon the floor and laid her rifle in her lap.
“You all right?” I asked.
“Tired is all,” she said. “I suppose there is no reason we can’t camp right here.”
I looked around and saw that Tuck had gotten off his hobby, but Smith still was sitting in the saddle, bolt upright, as straight as he could sit, with his head held tall and rigid, twisted a little to one side, as if he were listening. On his face he still wore that idiotic, terrifying happiness.
“Tuck,” I said, “would you and George unload the hobbies. I’ll look around for wood.”
